Indiana Jones and the Wrath of the Pirate King
by Grand Moff Tarkin
Summary: Indiana Jones and George 'Mac' McHale, are going on an adventure to search for lost Pirate gold in the Caribbean. How did Mac join the KGB? How did Spalko find Indy? Unravel the mystery that surrounds the events leading up to Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.
1. An Unexpected Visitor

**Indiana Jones and the Wrath of the Pirate King**

**1956 San Fransisco**

Indiana Jones, the archaeologist adventurer, has been given a call by one of his old colleagues, Dr. Pleiston, who has recently been studying an old Pirate legend of the Pirate King. Indy, seeking something to do on his shore leave, was getting ready to leave when another friend Mac suddenly turned up on his doorstep, knowing all too well that Indy was about to go looking for lost Pirate treasure...

* * *

**An Unexpected Visitor**

"Ello' Jonesy!" a voice crept into the now fully open door, along with a chilly winter breeze.

Indiana, with a confused look on his face, faced the man who was now standing on the dirty doormat.

The man was wearing brown leather boots, long brown pants covered in a layer of dry mud, a dark dirt coloured jacket covering an almost unnoticable cream top and an almost so big it's scary, winning smile.

"Mac, what are you doing here. I was just about to leave... Wait a minute, don't tell me. You're here because John (Dr. Pleiston) told you I might need help, aren't you?" Indy said, finally realising why Mac had a large suitcase put down outside the front porch.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world Jonesy, heh heh! I 'ope ye' ready to go, it's an 'ell of a long way to go from 'ere," Mac excitedly said, jogging up to his case which was waiting patiently near a shrub plant.

"Hang on Mac, I didn't say I wanted you to come on this and... Well I've already got... You haven't got the slight... Oh alright! You can tag along, but this'll be the last time. Just let me grab my hat."

Indy then walked back into his living room and eyed down objects across his desk until he spotted a brown fedora hat hung up on a small rack, in an inverted position.

Indy walked up towards the 'black as tar', desk with piles of junk mail and unmarked homework stacked up on top.

"Oh, looks like I've got a lot of work to do when I get back. Hopefully this won't just be a short trip like the last one," Indy told himself with an uneasy look wiped across his face. Then he picked up his hat and headed for the door.

" 'Urry up Jonesy, we'll miss our boat ride," Mac said with an impatient look whilst tapping his feet in rhythm.

Indy turned back to the living room and glanced at an old photo of Marion Ravenwood at a younger age. She just stared back with an arrogant smile.

"Sigh. Alright, lets go," Indy grabbed his case as they both left out of the front door and with a small bang and a few clicks, the house went dead silent.

A pitch black, 50's style car awaited, parked on the curb of the street with a man in the driver's seat.

"Hey Mac, why did you want to come anyway," Indy asked looking at the excited man, who had just opened the door of the black car and was now hopping into the back seat with his case (despite the awkwardness).

"Um... Well Jonesy, I guess I just wanted to go on another little trip, you know, see the world eh. Anythings better than staying in the city of complications in the bloody freezin' winter," he replied with what appeared on Indy's face as a story checked out to his standards.

"Okay, I suppose you're right. It's quite a nasty winter and I suppose I could use your help," Indy agreed sounding slightly sappy. Mac continued to maintain a winning smile on his face as Indy finally got in and closed the door shut with a grunt.

"I'm getting too old for this job."

After Indy's final comment, Mac nudged the driver and with a nodd, the car began to leave.

* * *


	2. The Boat Ride

**

* * *

**

The Boat Ride

In the San Francisco docks, a large freighter ship was coming in to the harbour. There were many loud foghorns sounding and a lot of voices of dockworkers and sailors.

At the security check-in box by a small freeway, a black car rolled in to a sudden halt.

"Hello, I am the security check in manager. May I see your papers please," the man inside the tiny box asked to the man in the back seat, who was wearing a light-felt, crushable brown hat, who was to an obvious view, Indiana Jones and the guy on the other side was a very well-motivated (or in otherwise, excited) Mac.

"Sure, no problem," Indy said in a clear tone as he reached for his passport papers in his wallet.

"Here you go," he said as he gave the security person his Identification.

"Thank you Mr. Jones, you can proceed onto platform-13. Have a pleasant trip."

The car, after Indy was given his passport back, continued on towards the lower docking areas.

Mac, who was starting to feel the cruel pressures of anxiety, turned to face Indy.

"Jonesy, why are we goin' on a boat anyhow? I mean, wouldn't we get to Cuba alot faster by goin' on a plane?"

"Yes, but first I have to make a quick stop in Los Angeles first. We could've gone by plane, but I was short on time, so I called up an old friend who owns his own dinghy," Indy explained to Mac who sat there looking out the small back window.

"Fair enough, you can tell me about this place we're going to later I suppose."

The car then pulled into a small docking area marked '13'.

Indy and Mac jumped out with there luggage and began to walk down to a rusted up dinghy boat which had large white letters on the side reading 'El Sapepiana'.

Swiftly, Indy remebered the black car, and ran back to give the the driver the fare money plus a tip.

"Thank you, sir. Have a smashing trip," the driver said before driving off back out of the port gateway.

Indy caught up with Mac near a pile of crates, which were cracked open.

"Hello? Vagreddo are you there?" Indy called out to the small vessel.

"Dr. Jones my friend, over here," a man answered from a hidden boarding area concealed behind the dinghy.

Indy walked up to the man who was loosening knots.

"So is she all set?"

"Sure. Just gotta loosen da' knots, man and we'll be on our way, okay?" the Vagreddo said, as Indy got on board with Mac, who was checking out the daft thing.

"No offense, mate, but I reckon' this is a piece of junk to be quite honest," he said expressing his true feelings for their new ride.

"I knew someone was gonna say that someday. Sure she's a bit banged up and scraped, but she's gotten me from one side of this ocean to the next," Vagreddo then jumped into the boat and approached the controls, as Mac thought, 'I'm suprised he's still got two legs, this must be the slowest piece of scap ever.'

"You guys better hang on, this is going to get a bit rough for you, eh Grampa," Vagreddo said smiling. Mac couldn't help but utter a chuckle.

"I thought I told you, don't call me Graaaaahhhhhh," Indy was cut off as the Dinghy revved out at high speed, even Mac grunted a bit as the boat pulled out at sharp, extreme velocity. Vagreddo just laughed manically.

Mac managed to yell out, "This is fun!"

The dinghy slowly stopped and then before anybody could get into a good position, it gradually boosted up until the speedometer read out '87mph'.

Although the boat appeared completely unfit to even be tied up, it continued to zoom on under the Golden gate of San Francisco.

Indy's hat flung off, but he managed to catch it quickly, with a fling of his arm and a clench of his fist.

"I din't' even know a boat this bloody small could go this bloody fast!" Mac yelled to Vagreddo in a complementary tone.

"Yeah, it's all banged up and I keep getting the feeling like I've done this before!" Indy called out, trying incredibly hard to recall any past experiences in boats.

Then in a low voice, he whispered, "ah, Venice."

"Hey man! I told you it'd be too fast for you Gramps... sorry man I mean Indy, hah! hah!" Vagreddo yelled out across the roar of the motor engines.

"EL SAPEPIANA POWER, YEAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!" he screamed and pummeled his arms with fisted hands into the air stream.

"Alright, you've had your fun, come on slow it down!"

"What was that, I don't think I heard you, amigo!" Vagreddo cheekily shouted out, swiftly moving his right arm down to the throttle.

"I said, yooohhhhhh," Indy was once again cut off as the boat almost tipped over, just by stopping.

Mac, Indy and many items onboard began to get tossed over the side, as Vagreddo himself was thrown forward hard, but that didn't stop him from crying out with laughter.

Indy and Mac eventually got back onto the vessel portside.

"Vagreddo, if you do that again, I swear, I will kill you," Indy told Vagreddo, shivering. Vagreddo had regained his feet and now had a barely noticably curved smirk on his face.

Mac grabbed a towel and wiped all of the seawater off his face whilst saying, "Oh, lighten up Jonesy, I mean come on, that is what yeh used to ain't it?"

After a while, the 3 finally managed to gather up all of the items which had been set adrift at sea and the dinghy proceeded in a Northerly direction to the City of Angels.


	3. A Soviet Suprise

**A Soviet Suprise**

An extremely cold breeze swept over the cloudy skyline of Los Angeles.

Beneath the clouds a tall building's Executive office desk was littered with files and documents.

Behind the desk a black, leather chair was facing the window panels of the office. A small phone wire lead up to a two ended curved cylinder.

The person holding the phone was engaged in heavy conversation, and the mouth doing the talking had a lit cigar struggling to stay inside.

Above the Cigar-filled mouth were a pair of dark shaded glasses, which were laying on the person's nose below a medium cut grey set of hair.

The conversation came swiftly into focus, "Yes sir, I'll find as much information on Jones as possible, yes sir... yes sir... I'm on it..."

The man rose up out of his seat placing the phone vertically facing the desk, near the receiver and walked towards a filing cabinet by the door.

With a turn of a key and a grunt of a pull the second tray opened in a dragging fashion.

As the man reached down and flick through the files, a name tag became visible clearly presenting the name, 'Executive Manager- Kyle Johnson'.

Kyle continued to search mumbling something below his chin until he finally managed to find what he was looking for.

"Ah hah!" Kyle blurted out picking out the file marked, 'Jones, Henry Walton'.

Kyle quickly rushed back to his desk and picked up the phone, puffing his cigar again.

"Alright sir, I have everything on Jones right here... yes sir... I'll get it to you by tomorrow," he explained to the person on the other end of the line, referring to the profile and records of Indiana Jones.

He then placed the phone on the receiver and took out a large envelope from the right hand corner of his desk after taking a final puff from his cigar and placing it on the ash dish.

Kyle opened up the envelope, slipped in the BIOS, and sealed the top shut tightly so that it would remain undamaged on its journey to the mysterious man on the other end of the dropped line.

"Sigh, I hope the boss doesn't take this thing too far, I want to get home and see Clarissa," Kyle said to himself in a depressing tone as if speaking to a therapist, but still continuing to sort out the envelope and then open up (and read) all of the letters still mounted up in the center of the desk.

Meanwhile, elsewhere at a desolate location.

A young female dressed in a grey blue uniform (who was carrying a small brown package) prowled the corridors within the catacombs of an ancient ruin.

The woman seemed rushed and so was moving at a more reinforced pace heading down what appeared to be the hallways of a Nuclear fallout shelter for V.I.P's.

She then entered a room down the end of the corridor and swiftly came to a halt in front of a man dressed in secrecy, unknown to anyone was the true identity of the male sized figure.

"I have the special items of your request within my hands, you may retrieve them," The cloaked man stretched out an arm, but just as he attempted to gain a grip on his prize, the woman rapidly seized the package away from his clutches.

"But, first you must give me the information on Jones. There's no deal without it," her voice had a very noticeable Russian accent.

A suprisingly clear and unfaltered voice boasted away from his mouth, "Fine, You shall have everything I can acquire on Jones soon."

"In the mean time doctor, why don't we get a little more... acquainted. Mainly meaning your work," He offered, despite holding a suprising secret in his mind.

The woman had a name tag on the left side of her blazer, which read, 'Colonel Irina Spalko' and behind her stood another person, this time a male wearing similar clothing, but wearing a short grey cap. On his uniform was also a tag, but presenting more information reading, 'K.G.B Colonel Antonin Dovchenko'.

"Unfortunately for you, we prefer to keep our operations completely confidential," She rejected, holding a veered smile beside her left cheek.

She then about turned and marched away, with the brown package in one hand, throwing up her other hand and waving it to Dovchenko and to two other henchmen holding assault rifles and dressed in a camouflaged green mixture, also wearing caps.

"As you wish. Come back tomorrow and I will give you all the intelligence I can gather on Jones, and maybe a bit about the..."

The mysterious man halted before the final word, and so did Colonel Spalko in the leaving. The smile faded.

"What did you say?" She asked standing perfectly still only moving her lips.

"The ultimate goal of yours. Finding the hidden artifact of the Aztecs, isn't that what you have always been searching for? A pure quartz skull I believe?" he replied, inquiring her and at the same time answering her.

Spalko continued her pace and wondered how he could know such a thing, Especially considering her belonging to the Russian K.G.B, which in terms contained 'unreachable information'.

The three men followed her out of the room and the mysterious man stood bluntly overseeing her escape from his questionable question.

* * *

Indiana Jones. What would Spalko want from this Indiana Jones?

Who is the mysterious man? How does he know about Dr. Spalko?

What is concaled under that brown package's fuselage of paper?

Why am I asking all these questions?

Well I guess you'll just have to find out in the next chapter of Indiana Jones and the Wrath of the Pirate King.

All questions will be answered, all of them, in the next two chapters that is anyway.

Reviews are welcomed (Only if you truly desire it).


	4. The Detective

**Meeting the Detective**

A large layer of misty, fog covered the Los Angeles harbour.

The dinghy formally known as the 'El Sapepiana' was docking in to a small platform marked 'P-8'.

A Mexican voice sounded out from the near front of the starboard side, "Alright my friends, this is our stop."

Indiana Jones stepped off, as a small boarding ramp seemed to click right next to the disembarking area.

"Vagreddo... I don't know what to say, honestly... Thanks I suppose," Indy tried to express his gratitude, but could not find the right words after the unique trip.

"I think what Jonesy's tryin' to say is that it was one hell of a ride and that he coudn't handle it," Mac said making fun of Indy.

Indy continued to walk away looking slightly frustrated and obviously not amused.

Vagreddo laughed and jumped off the other side and left down towards a smal boat hangar yelling, "You're welcome my friends and good luck!!"

"Hey Jonesy, wait up will yeh!" Mac called out trying to run up to Indy who released a chuckle and smile.

"What's the matter, can't keep up with 'Gramps? Oh and don't forget our stuff."

Mac glanced back then ran onto the dinghy, grabbed his luggage from the storage area and paced quickly back towards Indy.

Later on, at the hotel room that Indiana Jones booked in San Fransisco, Mac is waiting for room service to bring up the extra luggage and for the archaeologist himself to return from the bank across the street. Mac was thinking, 'jeez, I've gotta go to 'Ollywood sometime, I mean Jesus, we're in L.A, Oh yeah and wasn't I supposed to find out why the hell we're here anyway?'

Indy meanwhile, was attempting to gain money from his account, but could not assetain more than 447.50 dollars.

The bank teller told Indy, "Unfortunately you only have just less than 450 dollars, sir."

"Oh, um... well that'll just have to do, I'll take whatevers there thanks," he then reached to grab the money and account checklist sheet, as soon as the teller was done.

Indy thanked him and walked away looking quite disapointed with his money.

"Oh well, it looks like I'd better get to Larson's place or else there'll be hell to pay."

Indy left the bank still with a displeased look on his face and strode off down the street, seeming to know where to go.

Indy had a quick and businessman like pace set as he made his way past many people crowding down the prominade on a typical L.A day.

It seemed almost though he was limping, like an old man would do.

' Almost there ', Indy thought to himself.

And just a it seemed he almost was, a voice came from behind, "Doctor Jones?"

Indy turned to face the area where the voice had come from, "Yes," he said, but he couldn't see anyone looking back to answer him.

Then Indy, as he scanned through the endless crowd, felt a tap on his shoulder, "Right here, Professor." Naturally, he turned around quickly.

Indy saw one person dressed in a detectives standard uniform.

"Dr. Jones, I am detective Larson Orkinson of the FBI, please come with me."

"I was actually coming to find you and..."

"We have no time to discuss this here, you are in danger professor and it won't be long before they discover that you are here, catch you and take you to the head of their command," he cut in and quickly updated Indy.

They paced quickly along the pavement heading for Detective Orkinson's place, both silent with grim looks on their faces. The calm sunny sky was beginning to grey as storm clouds eased in above the city (this was being rare weather for sunny california). A few moments later Larson stopped in front of a small household situated in a residential area of town. "Here we are," he claimed as Jones came to a stop as well. He unlocked the door, twisted the knob and opened up to reveal a usual hallway with a door leading to the living room and a staircase which leads to the upper areas of the dwelling. "Nice place," Indy commented naturally. 'Thanks' is what Indy was expecting to hear, but I suppose the rule here is not to expect the expected.

"Indy, close the door behind you, we have much to discuss and not much time to discuss it in," Indy closed the door and followed Larson into his living room. Although maintaining his usual 'please amuse me' face, he was actually very uninterested and exhausted. "Alright lay it on me."

"Have a seat," Larson offered.

"Sure," he replied as he sat down on the most comfortable seat he could see, turned out it wasn't as relaxing as he'd imagined it would be.

After letting out a small sigh, Indy started, "So tell me, who are these 'others'?"

"Well, professor, there is something that I must tell you before you go off chasing after lost pirate gold," Larson replied keeping a very serious look on his face.

"I'm all ears."

"There is a conpiracy circulating around back at FBI headquarters about a double agent, possibly working with communist soviet agents who are trying to get to you Professor and it won't be long before this pers..." Indy interrupted starting to get very curious.

"Wait, what? Soviet, you're talking about KGB, aren't you?"

"Yes, but there is an even bigger danger which threatens you that may be linked with this sudden archaeological mission you have been sent on," Larson said with caution in his words.

"From now on doctor Jones, I'd suspect everyone around you. You shouldn't trust anybody."

Just as Larson said those last few words, a sudden rush of nostalgia began running through Indy's mind remembering the ill fated words of Walter Donovan.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Less than ten minutes later, Indy finally emerged from the entrance of Detective Okinson's home with a couple of plane tickets in his hand, only to find Mac standing in front of him.

"Where the bloody hell have you been?" questioned Mac with a look of impatience spread across his face.

"I was getting our ticket out of here, and... hey how did you know where I was anyway?" Indy countered with a brief explanation.

"It was quite obvious with that note you left on the table."

Mac and Indy start to walk down the street heading back to the hotel.

"Oh yeah, that reminds me, we only have about $500."

"I thought you said you weren't poor."

"What exactly were you doing in there anyway?" he asked with a curious look creeping on his face.

Mac hinted a cackled chuckle and Indy smiled briefly.

"So where are we off to then? New York? Miami? Oh wait, don't tell me..."

"The Bahamas," Indy answered.

"Okay, so we're going to the Bahama's. What in bleedin' christ are we going there for?"

"You'll see," Indy replied offering a smile obviously trying to hide his slight anxiety from the talk with Larson.

Both continue down the pavement through the endless crowd, unaware that they are being followed by men dressed in black suits and wearing sunglasses.

"Agent Utilliah to Kremlin 3, we are continuing to monitor the target. He has just taken the bait," the man walking on the left reported into his communications radio .

* * *

And there you have it, the 3rd chapter. I know it's been like 4 months, but I've been real busy doing Cadet stuff and School. Oh well, there you go. Hope you enjoyed this. Anyways... What will happen when they reach the Bahamas?

Next chapter will come a little later, maybe 12/5/08. Please do review as well. If not then at least read the entire story when I finish it so that I know whether you enjoyed it or not.


	5. Unexepected Reunion

**Unexpected Reunion**

The flight to the Andros Island in the Bahamas was very unpleasant. The service was bad, the footing was terrible and the ride was extremely turbulent. Indy is reading a book in a relaxed state, shilst Mac is observing a map and trying to memorize every location. Mac has an idea to search for wealth and fame in the caribbean. Indy's mind is mainly focusing on what detective Orkinson had told him.

A few hours later, Indy and Mac have finally arrived at the airfield. The Island was quite beautiful with its perfect tropical climate, golden sand beaches, and the excellent hospitality of the Island inhabitants. Indy however, wasn't expecting a certain someone to be the outside the main terminal waiting to great him.

"Well, well, well. Doctor Jones," the man said. He was wearing a naval captain's uniform with the traditional white hat on top of his head. He had a dark skin tone and a cigar planted on a very wide, winning smile.

"Katanga? Simon Katanga?" he asked just remembering the name, even after only seeing him on a short voyage almost twenty years ago.

"Doctor Jones, what has it been, 20 years?" Katanga said with a grin parked between his cheeks.

"Yeah. I guess it has."

Mac decided to join in.

"You guys know each other?" he asked curiously.

"Yeah, that's right. He helped me out a few times in the past. What are you doing here?"

"Well Jones, I was sent a letter from your college, that said that you were coming here to hunt for lost treasure, but myself, well I was just taking care of some... business," Katanga explained.

"What kind of business? Smuggling more archeaologists from Cairo, or maybe you've been having a few sea battles with pirates?" he asked curiously with a hint of humor in his voice.

"Smuggling? Sea battles?" Mac also questioned, but mainly to Indy.

"Well doctor Jones, maybe I have and maybe I havn't, but what I do know is that you are here for a good enough reason for me to be here as well."

"I suppose you're right," Indy agreed beginning to walk down the road with the others.

"So where are we going anyway?" Katanga looked at Mac.

"Um... ask him, he's the one who dragged me here. I just tagged along for the 'Fortune and Glory'."

"Well, if you really want to know, we're following directions on this map," Indy pulled out a map that he had obtaned at the airport.

Katanga then looked behind him as he followed, and signalled a few other men to follow along. Bringing up the rear was the pair of KGB agents who were tasked with following Indy and with a second mission that they knew would be much easier to pull off. The men seemed to already have transportation as a black cab pulled up. They quickly hopped in, one dropping a cigarette butt.

"Base 1, this is Agent Carluga, we are continuing to monitor the target. He is moving on foot. Suggest code 3," the KGB agent reported on his radio, this time in a more Cuban dialict.

The car started up and moved along the road avoiding detection.

"So Doctor Jones, how old are you now... 75?" Katanga asked obviously attempting to make a humerous comment.

"Look I don't need you trying to..." Indy paused and looked ahead at a giant monument that was shaped out as a pirate ship.

"Wow," said with fascination at the magnificance of its shape and size.

"That my friend is the tribute to the almighty pirate king that existed a long time ago," Katanga explained.

"And that, is why we're here," Indy said, walking along to the text that was engraved into a pure golden alloy plaque.

"It reads; 'This monument is dedicated to the many victories of the pirate king, Barbossa and his loyal crew whom won their fortune and glory at the Battle of Tortuga Cove'," Katanga translated.

Mac felt a hint of anxiety as the mention of Fortune and Glory came in.

"Fortune and Glory? The last time I heard that... never mind," Indy commented clearly hiding his interest on the subject.

"Tortuga cove is an Island chamber near Hespaniola. It used to be a major pirate port back in the 18th century.

"Where do you get this stuff?" Mac asked obviously curious.

"I've been to more places than you my friend. Indy, there's something going on there. A big operation of some sort, I don't know exactly, but a man of mine went over there, and he didn't come back."

"Sounds familiar, 'sigh'. I guess we should check this out..." Indy answered remembering the many times when he was up against something weird and unexplained.

* * *

Yes I know, this is starting to get corny and boring, but I've been away for a while and I've decided that moviemaking is more for me.

But still, I'll at least attempt to finish this story.


End file.
